


To You From Failing Hands

by blacknoise



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 08:01:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10486062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacknoise/pseuds/blacknoise
Summary: Link's final moments during the battle of Blatchery Plain. 2nd person mini-study.





	

There's a moment that comes for everyone, the end of possibility, when all that could be, all your potential, dwindles down to a single, final string of events. This is when death claims your future, and the last moments of your life begin to play out.

What they don't tell you is how much it hurts. It hits you all at once, when one blow too many shatters the formerly impenetrable shield of your adrenaline. It rips an almost animal cry from your lips, battered out of you as you take a wound to the abdomen that arcs up and in under your ribs. That damage punctures a lung--your voice dies off almost immediately into a wheeze.

You've been injured countless times, but this... There are no more elixirs to hand. Mipha is-- _no_. Don't get distracted. You can't afford it. There's no help and your wounds are deep.

"Go! Save yourself, I'll be fine!" What Zelda doesn't know is that you _couldn't_ , even if you were craven enough to want to. The die is cast. You already know you aren't leaving Blatchery Plain.

What they don't tell you is that you'll be afraid. You are so _afraid_ , for all that you are the avatar of Courage. You feel the allowable selfless fear, fear for your friends, fear for her--you're failing her, leaving her alone when you vowed never to. But now you feel a selfish fear as well. Each knight pledges his life to the Crown, to the Kingdom. But you're not ready to die. You've barely lived yet.

The world's going dark at the edges. All you can hear anymore is the ragged rasp of your breath, your pulse hammering in your ears. All you can taste is the blood bubbling up in your mouth. The battlefield has nearly faded around you, leaving you alone amidst the chaos.

On trembling legs, you stand. What choice is left? Square up and meet your fate on your feet. That's what a knight does. That's what a Hero does, isn't it?

Isn't it?

Your sword arm is going numb.

Stand.

You haven't seen your eighteenth birthday yet. The youngest knight in an age, they'd cheered.

 _Stand_.

Clambering over the fallen debris and scrap metal, another Guardian takes aim. There've been so many. You've lost count, and you never lose count. Against every last ounce of your will, you waver. Your footing gets sloppy. The master at arms would never have let you hear the end of it. Why can't you keep your head up? When did it get so cold?

She leaps in front of you, radiant brilliance erupting from her like a firecracker. You feel the wave of Hylia's power, hear the ringing song of the goddesses of creation. And you're so proud of her. Of Zelda. _Of course_ there wasn't anything wrong with her.

When the ground catches you, it comes as a dull surprise. You didn't realize you were falling. It knocks the remaining air from your lungs and yet causes you no pain. Nothing hurts, not exactly. You're just cold. The mud on your cheek almost feels nice.

You slip into the encroaching dark for a moment. You lose time.

Her forlorn cry jerks you awake. You're a good servant that way, ever sensitive to your princess' distress. Her thin white arms clutch you against her shivering body and you remember--

Sun-dappled days in the woods, misty mornings in the stables, dinner in the barracks when the cook's daughter slipped you a second serving with a wink.

The scent of your mother--her voice, faint, urging you to "go to sleep, my darling son. I'll be here when you wake".

This makes your eyes burn. You still want to see tomorrow's sunrise. You still want to explore. You look into the Princess' eyes, wordless, and think of a million things you could say. Things you should have said before, when the only thing that stayed your tongue was your own anxiety. Now, when you open your mouth, you can only cough.

You shudder in Zelda's arms. There isn't enough air. You're slipping down deep, drowning, body giving up the fight on your behalf. You can't understand what she's saying anymore. Your heart stutters in your chest, suddenly heavy like lead. The last of your strength leaves you.

In that final stillness, darkness draws over your world like a curtain, and your fear gives way to peace.

  
\- - -

The whisper of the sword's spirit: "Master, I will await you."

\- - -

The voice of an ancient, forgotten god: "Your duty is not over."

\- - -

Silence. Silence.

It's deep.

You forget.

\- - -

Then a golden light registers in the darkness.

And a voice, strangely familiar, implores you: " _Open your eyes._ "


End file.
